


The True Starks- Part 4: Catelyn II

by sixsmith009



Series: The True Starks [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, Parent/Child Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-21 07:14:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19997980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixsmith009/pseuds/sixsmith009
Summary: The Stark men have gone on their yearly hunt, leaving Cat at Winterfell with the girls. The morning after Arya twists her mother round her little finger, Sansa's behaviour puzzles both her mother and sister. Why is the older Stark girl so... strange about what's natural? Natural urges she should have felt as she began her journey to womanhood....





	The True Starks- Part 4: Catelyn II

Breakfast at Winterfell was usually a disjointed but noisy affair. Ned would be the earliest, having his meal an hour after dawn. Jon would sometimes join, and Robb even rarely still, but for the most part, Lord Stark broke his fast alone. Catelyn would be next, coming down in time to watch Ned leave on his walk round the castle. Sansa would follow, and the boys would then stumble in in ones and twos. On the days Sansa was late, Catelyn would spread herself on the table for Robb and Theon, who were grateful for the opportunity to rid themselves of their wood. They’d take turns, lasting not more than half a minute in her, driving themselves into her until they stood panting and weak, kissing her neck before they sat down to eat. Bran and Rickon would be next, but up until this latest hunt, they hadn’t been the subject of their mother’s ministrations. This would no doubt change upon their return.

Arya would usually be last, coming in just as the boys were getting up to leave, and well after Sansa had left having been teased by her brothers. Although Catelyn didn’t know it, one of the boys getting up to leave with her was part of a pattern: the boys had a wager that was now well into a dozen or so pieces of silver. All Sansa would consent to was a hand squeezing her rump while her brothers pleasured themselves next to her, spilling their seed on her dress, and leaving. Robb had once boasted of getting to release on her thigh- Theon had taken him at his word; Jon, Robb had noticed, had given him a dismissive look.

Ned would return at the end- he took his meal in two parts, returning from his walk to a bowl of something. If they were alone, or if, at least, the girls were out of sight, Catelyn would offer her services to her man, either bringing him to completion, or getting him lubricated should he want Robb still at the table instead. Ned had so far shown no interest in Theon, and his activities with Jon were done far out of the sight of his disapproving wife. Bran too had had some knowledge of his father’s manhood, having had it as breakfast once or twice with his mother’s aid.

On this morning, rain-flecked and gloomy as it was, the meal was a much quieter affair. Catelyn and Arya sat in the little room usually used by the family for meals in the absence of guests, ravenous after their night together. They’d relieved themselves again this morning, fingering each other until they’d been tired enough to go in for baths. Their meal was quiet, and long.

The meal was almost at an end, with the scullery maids having brought in a bowl of fruit. Catelyn ate, distracted, staring at Arya and knowing she wasn’t going to get much done today. The little devil kept grinning at her, and the meal had been full of little obscene gestures they’d both made to each other. Catelyn had mimed fingering herself when the maid’s back was turned earlier, and Arya had kept opening her legs to flash her hairless little cunt at her mother.

The game continued. Arya picked up a piece of fruit- staring at her mother with a smile, she opened her mouth and licked it, slowly. Lasciviously. Catelyn crossed her legs and squeezed her thighs together, watching the berry disappear into Arya’s mouth. Catelyn stuck her own tongue out and placed a berry on it, drawing it in slowly and making a big show of suckling it gently between her lips. In return, Arya mulled hers around her mouth for a few seconds, passing it from cheek to cheek, not biting down on it, until at last she spat it onto the table. Strings of spit broke as it rolled to a halt. She picked it up and tossed it to her mother, grinning playfully.

Catelyn caught it. Holding it with two fingers, her tongue caressed the dripping piece of fruit, licking up her daughter’s spittle coating it, tasting the sweetness of both the fruit and her daughter. Maintaining eye contact with Arya, she pushed back her chair slightly, lifted her leg onto the table, pulled up her dress slowly, and spat the piece of fruit out of her mouth into her hand. Arya watched, mesmerized, as her mother passed the piece of fruit to her cunt, pressing and teasing it, until in one swift movement she shoved it in deep with two fingers. Arya could feel her own cunt throb as Catelyn pushed the haft of a fork into her hole, pushing the fruit in deeper, fucking herself with it, beginning to breathe heavily…

Arya was on her knees in an instant, face buried between her mother’s thighs, tongue going as deep as it could into her sweet fuckhole, little hands grasping her mother’s buttocks as the thighs closed in around her. Catelyn lay back, squeezing her nipples gently, imagining a cock sliding into her cunt at this very moment… Ned, Robb, Theon, Jon…

She moaned softly as the desire to fuck the bastard and choke the light out his eyes made her cunt light up. She hated him, but she couldn’t deny she’d jump him if she got the chance. Squeeze his nuts, kick them, kick his cock until it was red then make him fuck her…. 

Footsteps outside the door. Catelyn had just enough time to shove Arya away and swing her leg down off the table before it opened and in walked a sullen Sansa. Her eyes were downcast, not out of the usual for her, Catelyn thought. And lucky- the split second allowed her to cover her legs up with her dress.

Arya lay under the table, doing her best not to let her heavy breathing be heard. She watched as her sister pulled a chair and sat down, watching the legs move under her light dress. Arya knew well what lay under it- she’d spied on Sansa’s baths, as she was sure her sister had spied on her. She’d enjoyed the sight of her sister’s cunt, one that Sansa had begun shaving only this year. The light mess of reddish hair she’d had on it had disappeared. A shame. Arya had been fascinated by the fiery tangle between her sister’s thighs and hadn’t been alone- she’d heard her brothers discussing it too. 

Arya wondered why Sansa hadn’t made any advances at all. Arya’s first fuck had been Jessy, of course- all the children had been broken in by the insatiable nanny. But since then, she’d bedded what she’d wanted- random men from the household, men from the garrison, stablehands, a few of the feistier maids that came in to work during the summers, strangers at fairs… Her own brothers had started entering her since they’d spied on their father bouncing her on his cock one night. But Sansa… nothing. No attempt to make a lewd comment, to cop a feel, or even respond when Arya fingered herself under the covers, conveniently flashing her sister under cover of the moonlight streaming in through their window. None of her brothers had been lucky enough to get between her legs, and even her father had given up on Sansa.

Catelyn called for more food, and helped her daughter serve herself, making idle chatter about the weather and Sansa’s work for the day. She sized Sansa up- she needed to talk to her about the stablehand, since she was quite sure the boy wouldn’t wait much longer. The punishment the stablemaster had no doubt inflicted on him would very likely goad him into getting his cock pickled in a noblewoman’s juices again. Now that Cat had Arya, the boy would very likely be aiming for the older Stark girl. She decided to grip this bull firmly by the horns.

“Sansa,” she began, “What was that runt of a stablehand doing with you yesterday?”

Sansa rolled her eyes in reply. Catelyn’s irritation mounted. Arya decided to make matters worse for her mother.

“Keeping your mouth shut like a petu-“, Cat began again, but stopped suddenly as she felt her foot being rubbed against something slippery and warm. Arya. She pulled her foot away and continued, “-like some petulant child isn’t the answer to everything. You’re growing into womanhood and you need to act like one”

Sansa continued to eat, but a scowl had now crept onto her face. Catelyn was on the verge of repeating her question when she felt Arya lift her dress. Little hands on her knees, trying to push them wide open, with Catelyn keeping them shut. She wanted to, but this wasn’t the time. She pushed Arya away with a foot, then stood up.

Catelyn walked to Sansa and stooped to kiss the top of her head. Sansa remained frigid but managed a verbal reply.

“He’s a lewd little creature. I want to have nothing to do with him”

Catelyn kissed Sansa again, satisfied. That tone told her Sansa really did have no intention of letting the stablehand enjoy even the few privileges her brothers had managed to talk themselves into getting. Her hand dropped to stroke Sansa’s face, then, unable to stop herself, down to her chest. She traced the lacework of the loose morning dress with her fingers, casually letting her palm brush up against the perky bosom she knew lay under there….

Sansa stiffened as Catelyn all but squeezed her left breast. Catelyn felt it but was more occupied with the fact that the nipple she felt was hard. Like a pebble. The throbbing came clear through the thin cotton. An image flashed before her mind’s eye: herself sitting on a chair at this table, legs wide open and feet up on the edge of it, Sansa’s face at her crotch, urgent tongue probing Cat’s womanhood while she knelt and stooped down on the table’s edge. Arya- on all fours on the table- was slathering copious amounts of spittle with her tiny pink tongue on Sansa’s shit hole.

“What are you DOING?” Sansa’s outraged exclamation shattered Cat’s fantasy. She looked down just in time to have Sansa push her away in annoyance, stand, then flounce out of the room. Lost in her delicious reverie, Catelyn had almost squeezed her eldest’s left breast into a pulp. 

She heard Sansa’s footsteps tail off into the distance, and stood there, breathing heavily. She’d bedded everyone. Everyone except that little- as Arya had put it- airhead. She needed to be trained, trained to be a noblewoman that could produce an heir by any means necessary. Trained to make do with a drunken boor or effeminate ponce of a husband. Trained so that when her daughter’s holes eventually made her go looking for satisfaction, she could do it without being caught and scandalized. She watched Arya crawl out from under the table with a puzzled look on her face. 

“What did you do?”, Arya asked, watching her warily.

“What do you think?”, Catelyn fired back, grabbing Sansa’s water to soothe her parched throat.

Arya sank into Sansa’s chair and had a drink too. She watched her mother bustle around and stood watching as the maids came in and cleared up the table until they were once more alone. Cat sank into her chair, and beckoned Arya over. Arya walked over, lifted her dress, and sat on her mother’s lap facing her. Catelyn’s hands crept up under her and fondled her buttocks; Arya’s began kneading her mother’s breasts. The pair sat there, kissing occasionally and knowing that they both wanted the same thing- Sansa.

Arya broke the silence eventually.

“She knew I was down there”

Catelyn stared at her. “What? How?”

“The minute she sat down, she kind of… felt around with her feet. Felt me there, then pulled back”

Catelyn teased Arya’s shit hole with a finger, digesting this information. Arya responded by pretending to ride her mother’s finger gently, still peering into her face.

“She was aroused. Her nipples…” Cat trailed off. Was Sansa playing some game here? What was the endgame?

Arya was nodding off on her lap. Stupid little brat, she thought. Had insisted on waking her up after only a couple of hours of sleep to fuck. So tired now she had passed out with a finger up her ass. Catelyn sighed, pulled out of her younger daughter, gathered the sleeping child in her arms and went off towards the bedchambers. Arriving at her bed, Catelyn laid her little hellion down and drew a blanket over her. She spent a few seconds looking at that sleeping face… So peaceful. A wild, uncouth monster- and if the little brat hadn’t been the best fuck she’d had in years, she’d be trying to change the girl into something more obedient and plainer. Having watched Sansa growing up, though, Cat had no desire to raise another personality-less dullard like her eldest.

A wave of drowsiness overcame her. Her head felt leaden, and every part of her body called out for rest. She sighed heavily. Gone were her days of being able to be an utterly depraved whore at night and be a graceful Lady by day- age seemed to be catching up to her. Catelyn crawled into bed next to Arya. 

Two seconds later, she was snoring. Ten minutes later, the door opened and closed. The latch fell, locking three people inside.

Mother and daughter slept on.


End file.
